Prolixity
by chasingafterstarlight
Summary: Sometimes, princes come with silver-and-green scarves, rescuing innocent queens from deep ponds. Sometimes, fairytales have messed up love stories- particularly this one right here.- LucyLorcan, to break the cliche, T for suicide, for Sid.


_Prolixity_

**Lucy/Lorcan**

.

.

There were a set of books that rested on the bookshelf of Lucy Weasley. She'd received them for her sixth birthday from her mother the Muggle, and at first, she hadn't been able to read them. She'd just sit in the armchair, snuggled deeply into the blankets, staring at the unfamiliar words.

Until finally, her mum would come along. She would scoop Lucy up into her arms and put her down in her lap. Then she would open the books and tell Lucy stories of other worlds, of places where magical creatures existed and everyone got their happily-ever-afters.

And with all the faith that a six-year-old could muster up, she _believed_.

She believed in Narnia and happily-ever-afters and worlds beyond their own.

Once she was old enough to read chapter books, she no longer needed her mother. For hours on end, she would sit, curled up in her chair, chubby hands gripping the book. The pages were worn from countless reads, dog-eared to mark her favourite places. Certain lines were underlined. The books looked worn and used and _loved_, because that was what they were.

Despite the fact that they were used and beaten, Lucy did not allow anyone else to defile them. Hardly ever would she lend them out to anyone, and when she did, she would threaten them multiple times not to defile them- her sweet nature vanished when it came to those books.

She was a relentless dreamer, and though most of her family did not even attempt to understand her, her mum did. Sometimes, she would discuss with her, ask her which character she would be if she could be any of them.

(Her answer was always the same- she would be Lucy Pevensie, the brave dreamer queen who she shared a name with.)

She'd then elaborate, saying that Molly would be Susan, the older sister with the crushed dreams, and someone would be Caspian, Lucy's prince.

Then her Muggle of a mother would widen her eyes, saying that in the movie, Susan and Caspian had kissed- wouldn't that make Caspian _Susan's_ prince?

But Lucy would shake her head of brown curls because her mother had it all _wrong_, you see. She would explain impatiently that it was only a movie, and a Muggle movie, at that. They'd strayed far away from the book, from the hard facts that lay right in front of them. In the books, she informed her mum, it was definitely Lucy and Caspian.

It seemed that in Lucy's life, though, things were not set in stone.

..

Most of the time, Lucy Weasley liked to play pretend.

She would take the beautiful dresses that her mother placed in a box for her to mess around with and put them on, twirling before the grand mirrors. Placing a string of pearls around her neck, she'd smile into the mirrors. And in those moments, she would imagine that she was actually Lucy Pevensie and not the boring dreamer, Lucy Weasley.

Her eyes would sparkle brighter and her brown curls lengthen, becoming long and voluminous. Her lips would grow bigger and she'd grow taller. A crown would sit atop her head. For a moment, in the mirror, she would look like a Queen of Narnia. She would look like Queen Lucy.

But then, the crown would tumble to the ground in the mirror. And with the crown went her voluminous curls, her sparkly eyes, her big lips, and her exaggerated height. After that, when she looked in the mirror, she was just Lucy Weasley, a dreamer with limp curls and a fake princess dress, bought at a Muggle store for her to play _dress-up_ with.

She'd tug off the sleeves, dropping the dress to the ground, and forget to pretend that she was a queen as she put back on her jeans and pink t-shirt.

The mirror was always her solace.

She would peer into it, through the layers of glass, and hope that the girl of her imagination would reappear. Sometimes she did, in brilliant resolution, rivaling those of budding photographers. Sometimes she would be there, blurred into the background.

Sometimes, she didn't appear at all, and Lucy Weasley would be the only one staring back at her.

Those were always the worst days, when her belief in Narnia had hit rock bottom.

…

On a particularly rough day, Lucy Weasley told a boy in class that she was _not_ Lucy Weasley, that he should address her by her proper name- Queen Lucy.

Now, Lucy Weasley went to a Muggle primary school, as the wizarding schools were 'way out of their pricing range', as her mother liked to say. And in this Muggle primary school, Lucy was considered strange, an outsider, even. And her strong belief in Narnia and that she was a queen only added to the belief that she was terminally insane.

So the boy stared back at her, eyes wide, before he simply sneered. "You think you're a _queen_, now? Why should you be above us?"

"Because you're a bunch of Neanderthals," Lucy replied, quietly tracing shapes on her desk- crowns and flowers and images of what she imagined Narnia to be like.

"I don't know what that means," the boy replied, jumping out of his seat, "but you said it in a bad way so it must be something bad."

Lucy's eyes widened and her head snapped up. "Well, if you beat me up, you'll certainly never know."

They didn't seem to care- they obviously did not possess the same thirst for knowledge as Lucy did. But, seeing as she did not possess the same courage that Molly and James and many of her other cousins did, she decided it was best to run.

So that was what she did.

She ended up in the bathroom, in front of a cheap little mirror. There was no beautiful bronze surrounding it, no fancy swirls, but she pressed her hands to the mirror anyway and believed harder than she ever had before.

Then the mirror blurred in front of her. She did not get the chance to gasp, nor did the fear consume her. Because in an instant, she was jerked into the mirror.

The white bathroom blurred into a forest, laden with trees. The sun peeked out from over the trees. Then, without warning, she was flying- above the trees, above the grassy ground. Below her, she caught sight of a lamppost, and in that instant, she knew where she was.

"Narnia," she breathed, stretching out her arms and letting herself glide above the world she'd only read about.

As she looked down, she noticed creatures, the ones that she had only ever dreamed about- the fauns and the beavers and the centaurs. The whole world was bright, just the kind of place she'd dreamed of living.

When she zoomed over Cair Paravel, the castle that was honestly everything she had ever dreamed it would be, she noticed flashes of brown and blonde and dark- the Pevensies, she assumed. The urge to yell down to them overwhelmed her, but she barely resisted.

Looking up, she realized how clear the sky was- blue, as blue as her eyes. It made her smile.

Finally, she reached the spacious Narnian seas, which were as beautiful as they came. Suddenly, she wanted to fall down and land in the water, to swim across the ocean.

This was the sort of place that she wanted to live. This was _Narnia_, just how she'd pictured it, just as she'd _known _it would be.

But then she reached the end, her flight came to a stop. Then a voice travelled over the horizon.

"Lucy Weasley," it sung. "Your belief has done you well. Yet there are times when you are going to have to come back to the real world. You cannot spend your whole life with your brain in Narnia and your body in England. I _implore_ you not to neglect your real life. It will do you well, sometimes."

She didn't know what to say. _No_, she didn't want to live in her real life. Everything in her real life bothered her. How could she go back there, after seeing this magical land? Were they not going to allow her to live here? Her head raced.

The voice (which she now realized was Aslan's) spoke once again. "Now that you've seen that Narnia is very real, I know that you're going to be a deeper believer. I know that you're going to want to stay here. But you have to listen to me when I say this, Lucy- you _can't_. Narnia is not your home, as much as you want it to be."

Then she was being sucked backwards, pulled at the speed of light. She didn't cry out in pain, but she reached out- trying to stop the force that was pulling her away. Too bad resistance was futile.

She crashed back down on the floor of her school's bathroom, hands bruising against the cold tile. Her hands burned with pain, but she got up off the floor anyway and stared at herself in the mirror.

To her dismay, she was not Queen Lucy, even after her little Narnia adventure. In fact, she looked the same as before, except for one thing- her eyes.

Her eyes, the same colour as the skies and the ocean mixed together, shone with stories. They shone with the experience of a girl who had been to a different world and returned to tell the story. They shone with maturity, with knowledge. And she thought that maybe Aslan was right. Lucy was born with a thirst for knowledge, and now she knew for sure that Narnia was real. That, along with all of the sights that she'd seen- she could add all of those to her mental encyclopedia of facts.

She dashed out of the bathroom and back to the classroom, where class was only just starting back up again. All of the children shot her weird looks but did not comment, and she figured they'd caught a glimpse of the shining aura that now surrounded her.

Once she got home, inside the front cover of her favourite of all of the Narnia books, _The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe_, she scribbled three simple words- _Narnia is real._

Then she closed the book and set it back on her shelf, head filled with dreams and heart filled with _Narnia_.

….

She was able to keep at least a part of her in her real life for a while. She didn't know how- it was awfully hard- but she did it. In a way, she felt like Voldemort- splitting her soul into pieces, as to distribute a piece in each part of the world that meant something to her.

Then her gateway into her real life was blocked by a stone.

Her mother died.

It was sudden, unexpected. During the night, a blood purist snuck into their house, breaking windows. Lucy ran down the stairs as fast as her eleven-year-old-legs could take her and peered around the corner to her parent's room.

The man, whom she didn't recognize, hissed, "Filthy Muggle" and then the words that would ruin her life forever- "Avada Kedavra."

Her mother's body, normally so full of life, went limp and she fell on the floor, the ghost of her legacy still lingering in the air. All she could do was fall into her sister's arms, blinking back tears and wondering why everything had to happen to her.

She let go of her sister and fell onto the ground, hands cupping her mother's face. "Mummy! You can't do this to me!" she cried desperately, but it was too late.

All she could do was dash up to her room, face flooding with tears, and collapse on her bed, dreaming of Narnia. Now, though, a familiar face was added to the faces at Cair Paravel. Now, her mum ruled with the Kings and Queens of Narnia.

If anything, Lucy was absolutely certain that her mother had been a believer, and now, Lucy believed even more than before, because Narnia was her last link to her mother.

She did not want any part in her real life anymore. There was nothing tying her to there, and now it was as if her entrance to reality had been blocked. Most of her time was spent in her room, dreaming about Narnia and what would happen if she ever found another entrance to the world she'd dreamed of for so long, and was able to actually live there. She had more faith in the world of magic than in anything else, especially ever having a good 'real life'.

A lot of the time, she just missed her mother. And if finding a way to Narnia was the only way to see her again, then she was going to find a way to Narnia.

She just hoped that it would be soon.

.

The summer before her first year at Hogwarts, she read _The Magician's Nephew._ That introduced her to a new method.

She went on a shopping spree and bought _rings_, green and yellow especially, but none of them seemed to be magical. When she put them on her fingers, none of them would transport her to Narnia, and it made her quite sad. Frowning, she would toss them to the ground, feeling the distinct urge to sob as her dreams hit the floor along with them.

That brought her to her next experiment. Far beyond her house was a tiny pond, and she had a feeling that it was magical just by looking at it. Her theory was that if she went fully down into the water, she would be sucked back into Narnia.

So one day, while her dad was at work, Molly was over at a friend's house, and her mother was cleaning, she snuck out to the woods, feeling terrified but excited. Once she came upon the familiar pond, she stuck a toe in, shivering at the chill that ran through her body but not caring.

Then, deciding to be daring for once, she jumped feet first into the freezing cold water, hating the feeling of the cold water but smiling slightly underwater as she sunk down even further. The water consumed her, and she hoped that soon enough she would be going to Narnia.

Then there was a yell, and a hand stretching down to her, pulling her up. She wanted to yell, to tell the person that she did not need or want to be rescued. But she was underwater and all she could do was let the person yank her up.

Once she finally landed on shore once again, her plain pink dress soaking wet, her eyes finally fell upon her rescuer. He was a brunette boy with grey eyes and an upset expression. "What the _heck_ do you think you're doing?"

"Why are you rescuing me?" her voice trembled as she stared at him. "I don't know you."

"I don't know you either, but I wasn't very well going to let you die," the boy retorted, crossing her arms. "I'm no Gryffindor or anything- I mean, I'm not _brave_, but I wanted to do you a favour. What, do you mean you _wanted_ to drown?"

"No," she replied, her voice trembling, but the boy sent her a disgusted look anyway.

"Remind me never to do anyone a favour again," he told her, voice low, and then he walked off, dripping wet but looking more like a prince than anyone she'd ever seen before.

She had to wonder, right then, who he was, and why he'd bothered saving her. It occurred to her then that maybe, just maybe, she hadn't been sucked into Narnia. Maybe she'd been drowning. Maybe he had actually saved her.

The problem was, she had no idea in the slightest who he was.

.

The next year, her father forced her off to Hogwarts. She didn't really want to go- if she was going to live in Narnia for the rest of her life, there was no point in having a magical education. But when she mentioned this to her father, he just gave her a disgusted look and told her, "Get up to your room and pack your things. You're going to Hogwarts, whether you like it or not."

With a disgruntled sigh, she'd done what she was told, seeing as she'd never been much of a rebel. But she wasn't really happy about it.

That was, until she made it to the station and her eyes fell upon the boy from her little escapade in the lake. He was dressed in Muggle jeans and a loose t-shirt, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stood beside a guy she vaguely recognized. Molly was talking to the second boy, a sweet smile on her face.

Wait. Was that the guy Molly had gone on about all summer? Her eyes widened as she realized that the guy Molly was talking to had to be Lysander Scamander, and the guy who'd saved her had to be his twin, the boy she'd hardly heard a thing about.

Being incredibly shy, she didn't go over and talk to him or ask his name. However, as she stood there uncomfortably, she couldn't keep her eyes off of him.

"Hey, Lucy!" a voice sounded as someone skipped up to her. "Who are you staring at?"

"No one," Lucy answered coolly as she turned back around to offer her cousin a tentative smile.

"Oh, all right," Lily continued obliviously. "Want to go get a compartment with Hugo and me?"

Lucy nodded, following Lily through the dense crowd back to where Hugo was standing. Her mind was a million miles away as they weaved their way through the crowd to the first free compartment, thinking of Narnia and her savior, and wondering how they could relate. Finally, they pushed open the door, prepared to sit down.

But once they sat down, they realized they were not alone. A tiny blonde sat there, a smirk plastered upon her face.

"Mind if we join you?" Lily asked cautiously.

"Weasley, aren't you?" the girl asked with a small smirk. "I've heard all about you."

"Potter, actually," Lily replied, folding her arms across her chest as she glared at the girl. "Lily Potter. These two are Weasleys, though- Lucy and Hugo Weasley, my cousins. Do you have a problem with that or something?"

"No, I actually don't," she laughed. "You're Hugo Weasley? Your sister's name is quite the big sensation in our house." Her face lit up. "Gemini Malfoy. Nice to meet all of you."

Lucy just offered her a smile as Lily, Hugo, and Gemini launched into a conversation. Tilting her head, she stared out the window, out into the forests that covered the land. Her eyes fell upon a large lake, and she had to wonder if that was the portal to Narnia. But no, there would be no more lake-diving for her anymore. There would be no more dark-haired princes to save her.

"Dreaming about Narnia again, Luce?" Lily asked her in a teasing tone.

"Course not," Lucy blushed, turning away from the window. "I was only looking out the window; there's a rather pretty lake out there…"

"Sure, Luce," Hugo replied, tearing his attention away from Gemini for a fraction of a second.

Sighing, she sunk further back into her seat, wondering if she would forever be an outsider at this wizarding school of hers.

.

Once she got there, she was immediately ushered to the front for the _Sorting_. Honestly, she could not care less what house she was sorted into, though she didn't particularly want to be sorted into Gryffindor. Gryffindor was the house of the brave, yes, but it was also the house of the cocky, of those that rejected dreaming. She'd heard that Hufflepuff held quite a bit of dreamers, but that meant being in the same house as Hugo, which she dreaded. He'd probably want her to socialize or something.

Her best bet, she assumed, was Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw, where intelligence, deep thinking, and creativity were valued, and where thinking seriously about which house you would be placed into was valued.

Nervously, she suffered through the sorting of her cousins and friends- ("Gemini Malfoy!" "_GRYFFINDOR_!" "Lily Potter!" "_SLYTHERIN_!" "Hugo Weasley!" "_HUFFLEPUFF_!"). And after the shocking sortings of Gemini and Lily, she doubted that whatever house she was placed into would be a big deal.

So she scampered up to the stool and placed the Hat on her head. _Ravenclaw_, she pleaded internally. _Please, just put me in Ravenclaw, no harm done or anything. It's not like anyone will care anyway. Please?_

_Well_, the hat chuckled. _With ambition like that, maybe you ought to be in Slytherin_.

Lily's face popped into her mind, and she bit her lip_. No, please! I want to be in Ravenclaw. Please_?

_All right, fine_, the hat responded, _but only because you said please_.

There was a moment of silence before the hat boomed, "RAVENCLAW!"

Then the Ravenclaw table was clapping incessantly for the first Weasley to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Smiling softly, she walked over to the table, sitting down beside a grinning boy who looked at her with shining eyes.

But then, for whatever reason, her eyes travelled over to the Slytherin table, to where Lily was sitting. A shock ran through her as she realised who the boy on the other side of her was. He looked different somehow here, wearing his school robes with a green and silver scarf tied around his neck. Yet he also looked entirely comfortable.

"Excuse me?" she asked the boy beside her, trying not to sound too curious. "I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but do you know who that boy is? The one at the Slytherin table, beside the redhead?"

"No," the boy replied, looking a bit confused. "I'm just a first year as well. But… my name is Alex Finnigan," he offered with a smile. "And you are?"

"Lucy Weasley," she responded, not really knowing what else to say.

His adoring stare made her more than slightly uncomfortable.

.

"You're taking Muggle studies?" a voice came from beside her on the first day of classes.

"Yes, I am," Lucy replied coolly, taking out her quill and a scroll of paper. "I'm assuming you are, as well?"

"Well, if I wasn't, why would I be here?" Alex Finnigan smiled at her, and she felt the urge to groan internally. As if he was sensing her discomfort, Alex continued, "I hear that we get to read Muggle novels this year, it's so exciting!"

"Hang on," Lucy's head finally snapped over to look at him. "Muggle novels?"

"Yes, Muggle novels," a Slytherin girl sat down on her other side, not looking reserved about the fact that she doesn't know either of the people that she's talking to. "I hear that we're reading the Narnia novels, and that displeases my father but pleases me. I'm a rather big fan of them. Oh, and hello, there- I'm Isabel Nott, but call me Izzy." She smirked, looking totally confident and everything that Lucy sometimes wished she could be. "You're Lucy Weasley and Alex Finnigan. There, no need for introductions."

Though her face lit up at the mention of the Narnia books, she still shot Alex a confused look before turning back to Isabel. "You know _Narnia_?"

"Yes, of course," Isabel replied dismissively. "Just because I'm a pureblood doesn't mean I can't know about Muggle things. I know all about the Pevensies and the Beavers and Prince Caspian. Question is, do you?"

"Yes, of course I do," Lucy protested, her mouth falling open- how could anyone doubt her faith in Narnia? "I love Narnia! I've even been there, once, well, sort of-"

Isabel snickered. "How could you have been to Narnia? Are you crazy? It's just a well-written Muggle book."

"It's real," Lucy protested stubbornly. "I'm not crazy; I've _been_ there."

But the look that Isabel and Alex shared told her that they believed otherwise.

Later in class, as the books were handed out, she gazed longingly at the cover, wishing more than ever to go back to Narnia, to have her faith reaffirmed and perhaps see her mother again.

"You know what?" Lucy leaned over to Isabel, smiling. "My mum lives in Narnia."

"Is your mum alive?" Isabel asked sharply, shooting Lucy a confused look. "If she's still on this planet, there's no _way_ that-"

"No," Lucy shot her a glare. "I _told_ you that my mum lives in Narnia, so obviously she's not here."

Her eyes travelled back to the image on the cover, and she let out a wistful sigh as her mind took off into the land of her dreams, the land where everything was just perfect.

Though she'd never lived there, she missed Narnia with all of her heart.

.

She met the boy for the second time in the corridor her second year.

It was a chance meeting, to be honest. She crashed into him, and quickly began to apologize before her eyes flashed up to meet his and she inhaled deeply. "Uh… uh… I'm sorry…. I didn't see you there."

"Didn't you, though?" he smirked at her, crossing his arms. "Too busy dreaming, aren't you?" He tapped the top of her Narnia book with a knowing look before he sighed. "Might want to get your head out of the clouds sometime, Lucy Weasley."

Then, with the scowl still implanted upon his face, he walked off, his green-and-silver scarf trailing behind him as he walked. She could only stare after him- _how_ did he know her name? All he was doing was confusing her more. She had to know who he was, other than what she knew now- that he was one of the Scamander twins, the twin of Molly's best friend, Lysander Scamander.

She wanted to know, and when Lucy Weasley wanted to know something, she would find a way to find out.

.

Over the last year, she'd become best friends with Alex Finnigan and Isabel Nott, so it only surprised James and some of her other cousins when she sat down beside Isabel at the Slytherin table. Leaning over to her friend, she whispered, "Do you know that boy?"

"Which boy?" Isabel replied loudly, much to Lucy's dismay.

"Don't be so loud!" Lucy protested, her face heating up a bit. "That _boy_. The one down the table a bit, sitting near Albus and Malfoy, with the dark brown hair and silvery eyes?"

"Oh, that boy," Isabel shrieked again, causing Lucy to bury her head in her hands and resist the urge to bang her head on the table. Seeing Lucy's reaction, Isabel lowered her voice. "That boy is Lorcan Scamander, resident bad-"

"Don't finish that," Lucy replied, covering her ears as if to preserve her innocence.

"There's never a day that he's not sitting in detention with some teacher," Isabel continued as if she hadn't heard her. "He's always doing something wrong, and all the girls think he's the biggest bomb of sexy in this school. I, for one, find him annoying, but most girls aren't like me."

"Or you're not like most girls," she giggled, but her head was spinning. _Lorcan_, his name was Lorcan. Lorcan Scamander. But if he was such a bad boy, why would he have risked himself to save her?

Looking solemn for once, Isabel stared at her. "Seriously, though, Luce. I suggest you stay away from Lorcan if you want to keep your reputation as sweet, innocent little Lucy. He's known to be a player and to ruin girls. You don't want to get mixed up in that."

Her heart dropped into her stomach as she stared at Isabel. How could such a bad boy be her selected prince? But she nodded anyway. "I wasn't planning on it; I was just curious and all."

"Curious? You think he's hot, don't you?" Isabel giggled before dropping her voice. "I think he is too, no worries. I'm just not getting mixed up with him. He doesn't date."

"What do you mean? I thought you said the girls were all over him," Lucy replied, feeling that this reminded her somewhat of that horrid Muggle book her mum had showed her- _Twilight_, or something of the like?

"They're all over him," Isabel replied, "but he's not all over them." Tossing Lucy a wink, she stood up. "I've promised Lily I'd go flying with her and that cute boyfriend of hers, so I'll see you later, then?"

"Give Lily my best wishes," Lucy called after her, but her mind was far away from Lily's _recent activities_. All she could think about was Lorcan Scamander and how he couldn't _possibly_ be that bad.

.

Sometimes, she missed her mother. Things would set her off that nearly made her burst into tears. One such occurrence happened on Christmas Day of her third year.

She tore open the package from her father to find an ugly orange sweater. Had her mum been alive, she would have known that Lucy absolutely loathed the colour orange. She probably would have selected a nice pink or blue sweater, one that Lucy could actually wear.

She _knew_ he was trying; it just didn't seem like enough anymore.

Tossing the horrid orange sweater onto her bed, she bit her lip, the tears already running down her face. She ran out as fast as she could. At first, she had no idea where she was going. Then she decided that she _had_ to get to Narnia. There were no _maybes_ anymore. She had nothing in this world, because obviously Isabel and Alex and her _family_ had fled from her mind.

Once she stopped running, she realised where she was. There was a pond, vast in front of her, tempting as ever. Maybe this pond was the passageway to Narnia.

She'd always been a little bit naïve, anyway.

So she jumped in, her robes billowing around her and seeming to pull her down. The images of Narnia were stronger than ever- she could almost _see_ the green landscape, the rolling hills, the majestic mountains that made up _Narnia_ in every way.

Then there was a face in front of her, a boy with brown eyes and shaggy brown hair. He was her prince- was this _Caspian_? Was this _Edmund_? Her mind was fogged up, crammed with memories and how scared she was.

Then her mother's voice broke through the fogginess, broke through the picture of her ideal prince. "Lucy. Lucy, you have to believe, but you don't have to block out your real life."

"Mum?" she whispered, voice soft but confused.

"I don't want you to forget," her mum continued. "Live your life. Don't forget about Narnia, because it exists, but find your real life, find your prince. Do everything you've wanted to. Stay friends with Isabel and Alex, they're the best ones you have. And most of all… don't push people away."

"Mum, I…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Looks like you've got a rescuer, there," her mum replied, and then everything was fading once again. No longer could she see the lovely landscape of Narnia. Instead, everything was blurring and her eyes were stinging. Once again, she was in the water.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she suddenly became aware of the fact that she could not breathe. She was choking. Then someone's arms were wrapped tight around her, tugging her up from the water, from the premature death that she had found herself facing. She almost screamed, but then she choked under the water and _no_, this couldn't be happening—

Then she broke the surface, her head bobbing above the waves. Water was dripping from her face, masking her tears. As she turned, she saw the boy- her rescuer- _Lorcan Scamander_. Was he stalking her or something?

"You again?" he asked, pulling the two of them onto the shore. "You didn't learn your lesson the first time, did you, Lucy Weasley? Trying to get to Narnia, were you?"

"I did, though, Lorcan," she informed him as the air began to make its way back into her lungs, and the look of shock on his face that she'd figured out his name was completely worth all of it. "I made it to Narnia, and I saw my mum and…"

"Your mum is dead," he told her flatly.

That was it. She broke again, not caring that she was crying in front of Lorcan Scamander, the boy that she hardly knew but she'd been watching from afar for three years. For once, she allowed herself to be the young thirteen year old girl that she was.

Rubbing her eyes, she ceased the tears. "I- I'm sorry. It's just, it's _hard_-"

"I get it," Lorcan replied uncomfortably. "My dad- my dad, he died when I was younger… it never gets any easier, does it?"

"No," Lucy told him quietly. "It doesn't."

And then he extended a hand, staring at her as if she was but a young _child_ (and maybe, in actuality, she was, but she sure didn't feel like it). Even if she was slightly insulted, she took it anyway, and together, they walked back to the castle.

She had to wonder if this was _Lorcan Scamander_, the bad boy that she had heard so much about.

What _bad boy_ cared so much about a thirteen year old girl?

.

"Where have you _been_?" Isabel rushed her as soon as she made it back to the castle, followed closely by Alex. Her eyes immediately fell upon Lorcan, who let go of Lucy's hand, and then back to Lucy accusingly. "We thought you were dead!"

Lucy started to say something, but Lorcan cut her off. "Almost drowned, actually," he smirked at the two of them. "Don't worry, I got her for you." Lucy was almost horrified, and even more so when he smirked one last time then said, "Oh, whoops, I've got to go. I'll see you children later." Offering them a wave, he walked off, leaving her to deal with the wrath of her two best friends.

"You were with Lorcan Scamander? Did I not warn you about him?" Isabel crossed her arms, looking incredibly angry with her.

"He _saved_ me from _drowning_," Lucy rubbed her eyes, already humiliated enough. "What did you expect me to do? Tell him to go away? He saved my life, honestly."

"Lorcan Scamander saved your life?" Alex raised an eyebrow, skeptical like every other Ravenclaw in the book. "I find myself doubting that-"

"You two don't _know_ him," Lucy protested. "There's something going on there, something you two aren't seeing."

"Oh, and you are?" Isabel chuckled, crossing her arms across her chest. "Look. I don't know what's going on between you and Scamander, but he's fifteen, you're fourteen, he's Slytherin, you're Ravenclaw, and _really_, the two of you shouldn't even know each other."

"He saved me," Lucy whispered, blue eyes tracing the ground. "Twice."

Still looking skeptical and unhappy, Isabel and Alex exchanged a glance. Finally, Isabel spoke again, Alex nodding along as if he agreed with every word that she spoke. "I don't know anymore, Luce. Just don't come running to me when you get hurt." There was no if in her words, no maybe.

"I'm not going to get hurt," Lucy told her confidently, because she was so sure that she was _strong_ and that after her mother's death, nothing was ever going to hurt her again. And besides, when all else failed, she still had Narnia, did she not?

But as she looked from an angry Isabel to a confused Alex, she didn't know if she was so strong anymore.

As the tears started falling again, Isabel walked up silently and hugged her, still looking angry but a bit softer- it wasn't as if Isabel ever _looked_ happy, after all. Alex just patted her shoulder.

She didn't know how to feel about anything that was going on.

.

In hindsight, maybe it was a stupid decision. But she supposed that the point of fourth year was to make stupid decisions.

Alex, her best friend of four years, asked her out. He was staring at her with big blue puppy dog eyes, and she _knew_ that she should've seen it coming- honestly, the stares in class were getting a little old. She couldn't resist him, though; he was her best friend and hurting him was one of her worst nightmares. So she made the worst possible decision and said, "Yes."

His face lit up and he grabbed her hand, smiling as he drug her off. "I proved Isabel wrong for once, then! She was certain that you were going to say no, but I was sure that you would say yes, because _obviously_ you're into me—"

She wasn't listening, really. She was busy dreaming of Lorcan and Narnia again, as she did most of the time those days. But she nodded her head with a pretty smile upon her face, as if she was excited to be going out with him. But truthfully, Alex was no prince.

He was short- given, he was taller than Isabel at least, but still short- and he was scrawny. He had floppy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, in contrast to the dark brown hair and different eyes she'd always dreamed of.

She saw that accusation written all over Isabel's face when he announced (loudly) to the entire Hall that they were dating. She saw that accusation in Isabel's eyes as well every time she talked to her best friend after that, and it stung so much that she hardly ever talked to Isabel anymore.

The relationship was horrid, to say the least. It tore Lucy and Isabel apart, along with destroying whatever friendship Lucy and Alex had before. It was boring, and their dates were just as bad. But Alex seemed sort of _happy_, so she couldn't imagine breaking things off with him.

She was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Needless to say, she spent most of her time with one of the most unexpected people. Most of her free time was spent with Lorcan Scamander.

Just because he was a _Slytherin_ and she was a _Ravenclaw_ and he was two years older didn't mean that they couldn't be friends, well, at least, in Lucy's humble opinion. Most of the time, they didn't bring up the fact that she was 'dating' Alex. At least, until one day, when he decided to break the undrawn line.

"So, you and Finnigan junior, huh?" he asked lazily, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes," she told him uncomfortably before peering back up at him. "Why? What does it matter?"

"You're not happy," he guessed, staring at her as if he was trying to figure her out. "So _why_ do you keep him around?"

"Because… Lorcan, he's my best friend. You expect me to just dump him, just like that? Things don't work that way," she told him, her voice wavering a bit. "I… I can't hurt him."

"You're too nice, Lucy Weasley," he answered her, frowning as if this was a _bad_ thing. "You can't just let him walk all over you all of your life. Scratch that, you can't let _everyone_ walk all over you all the time, which is basically what you're doing. Aren't you going to stand up for what you want sometime?"

"But Lorcan," she protested, sighing, "The problem is, I'm not actually sure what I want."

He stared at her, obviously not fathoming what she was saying. "How can you not know what you want, Lucy? That's the whole point of it being what _you_ want."

"I just don't," she replied, and that ended the discussion.

They had this discussion quite a few times after that instance, though. He could never seem to understand that she did not know what she wanted, and she didn't understand how he _didn't understand_. She was a Ravenclaw, and he was a Slytherin, so they differed on quite a few things.

But somehow, they were friends, and she expected it to stay that way.

.

It was yet another of those dates where she just had the urge to get up and leave. Alex was going on and on about something that he had read in _Hogwarts: A History_ and Lucy, though she'd read the book four times through, honestly didn't care about what he was saying. She had the urge to fall asleep as well.

Sipping at her butterbeer, she tapped her foot against the table as she tried to take in what he was saying. Everything was blurring in her head, though, and she felt almost as if she was going to fall asleep. Sighing, she drifted off a bit, picturing Narnia again in her head… the rolling green hills, the silvery blue waters of the drifting rivers. Yet, instead of a prince, Lorcan stood out in her head.

And no, it was _wrong_, so wrong. She was dating Alex and he didn't date so what point was there in daydreaming over him? But his face shone in her mind.

Then Alex's voice broke into her daydream. "Lucy? Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Of course I'm listening to you…"

"What was I talking about, then?" Alex challenged, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Uh," Lucy hesitated for just a second. "Hogwarts: A History?"

Groaning, he stared at her. "Do you even _care_ about me at all, Lucy? Be honest."

She stared at him for a second, thinking. Did she _care_ about him? Yes, as a matter of fact, she did care about him. But did she want to date him? No, she didn't want to date him- she never really had, and she probably never really would. It was just one of those things where he was _there_ and she wanted a boyfriend, because she was fourteen and insanely immature.

"You know I care about you," she replied, crossing her arms across her chest. "But Alex, I don't think I'm ready for a boyfriend. I see you as my best friend and I don't honestly think that will ever change."

"It's Lorcan, isn't it?" Alex grit her teeth. "It's always been Lorcan. _Oh, _Lorcan rescued me from drowning. Oh, Lorcan's so sexy. Lorcan's my true prince and all _Alex_ has ever been is a cheap replacement, even if he's my best friend who was always there for me. You're so _dense_, Lucy Weasley."

It stung, though- first, because Lorcan was the only one who called her Lucy Weasley, and second, because it was every Ravenclaw's worst nightmare, being called _dense_. But she forced on a smile anyway. "You're the one who's _dense_, Alexander Finnigan. You can't even see that Isabel has a major crush on her and all we're doing is hurting her."

"Isabel?" Alex spat out, staring at her. "No. Izzy… what? You've… why didn't she tell us?"

"She's a Slytherin," Lucy said, reminding him of one of the crucial parts of Isabel Nott. "The sad thing about us is that none of us are Gryffindors."

Then she stood up, pushing a wad of Galleons over to him, and marched out of the restaurant.

What most people didn't know was that Lucy Weasley always had a thing for drama.

.

"You and Finnigan broke up?" Lorcan asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes," Lucy replied stiffly. "Don't say it like that. I'm not exactly proud of it, all right?"

"I know," he responded, uncrossing his arms and relaxing. "Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be all right?" she hissed, scowling at him as if she was a Slytherin and he was but a reasonable Ravenclaw.

"You just broke up with your boyfriend, Lucy Weasley," he told her, staring at her as if she was insane. Really, she was, and he already knew that.

"I did, didn't I?" she replied, and that was when it hit her. She'd just broken up with her boyfriend. He'd been her sense of security, of safety, and now she was out in the real world, vulnerable and single. It made her feel strange, for a second, isolated, almost.

Then two strong arms were around her- arms that she didn't recognize, but that felt safe nonetheless. She pulled herself closer into Lorcan's embrace, resting her head on his chest. "Sorry… sorry about that," she sniffled, wiping away the tears she'd only just realised she was crying.

"It's all right, happens to the best of us," Lorcan joked, his rarely seen sense of humour coming out for once. "It'll get better, though; you'll see."

.

Her first letter from Alex came halfway into the summer, much to her dismay.

_Dear Lucy, _

_I was debating whether to write to you, but we're still friends, right? _

_I just wanted to ask how you were doing and stuff. Is your summer well?_

_I wanted to let you know as well that you were right. You're always right, actually. Anyway, Isabel and I are considering dating, but of course, we're not rushing anything. We don't want to hurt you and we both feel guilty. I feel guilty as well._

_Please, write me back._

_And by the way, don't feel like I'm holding you back- date Scamander, I mean Lorcan, if you want to. I'll be happy for you, I swear. You're good for him, so maybe he's good for you as well._

_Wishing you well,_

_Alex._

She held it in her hands, feeling the pain rush through her. She hadn't seen Alex, Isabel, or Lorcan all summer, and she hadn't known that they would be hanging out without her. To her dismay, she realised that she'd assumed that they would have let her know.

Sighing, she leaned back against the bed, feeling lonelier than ever. Then another owl zoomed through the window. Confused, she grabbed the letter off of it.

_Lucy Weasley-_

_Want to get together sometime?_

_-Lorcan_

With a half-lovestruck grin on her face, she whipped out her quill and scribbled a quick reply to him:

_Lorcan-_

_You know I do. Tomorrow okay? Three Broomsticks?_

_-Lucy_

In a short amount of time, she got her reply.

_Lucy Weasley-_

_Perfect._

_-Lorcan_.

Thrilled, she lay back onto her bed, feeling a rush of pure delight run through her veins at even the promise of meeting up with him. That was something she'd never felt with Alex. Whether it was love or just fangirl obsession, she wasn't sure, but it was surely something.

.

"Hey, Lorcan," she nearly whispered as she walked into the Three Broomsticks to find him waiting there at a table for two. His grey eyes seemed to sparkle, but his expression didn't change as she walked into the room. Lorcan didn't seem to have many emotions, though.

"Hey, Lucy Weasley," he replied, tapping the table. "I hoped you'd show up."

Raising an eyebrow, she shook her head. "Are you kidding? I've been bored out of my _mind_."

"I thought Ravenclaws were never bored," Lorcan responded in one of those tones that she could never decipher. "I thought you always entertained yourselves with your massive intellect."

"Yes, too bad my massive intellect doesn't always make for the most productive entertainment," she informed him stubbornly. Confused, he finally shut up.

Their conversation was light and scattered, nervous, almost. It was as if there was an elephant in the room that neither of them was willing to talk about. The thing was, neither of them had nerve. Lucy was a nervous Ravenclaw and Lorcan a cowardly Slytherin.

It was halfway through that Lucy realised neither of them were going to get anywhere if they kept playing around like that.

So, while he was on about some nonsense, she just randomly leaned across the table and kissed him, her fairytale prince of her dreams.

At first, he seemed shocked, and with good reason. But after a second, he kissed her back, his hands on her back. She wrapped her arms around her neck, melting into him- _this_ was everything she'd dreamed of in her fairytales. Pretty Narnian flowers bloomed behind her eyes, and she wondered how Lorcan could give her such magic when he didn't even believe in Narnia.

But then he pulled away, just staring at her, and she knew she'd done something wrong. Standing up, she pushed in her chair. "I'm sorry."

And then, in a flash, she was gone, leaving her storybook prince behind.

.

The prince always followed the princess somehow.

"Lucy." His voice echoed throughout the corridor at the beginning of her fifth year, and she didn't know what to do but to keep moving.

"Lucy Weasley," his voice rang out again, and his hand clamped down on her shoulder, strong as always. "Seriously. What is your problem?"

"What's my problem?" she asked sweetly. "What's _your _problem? Why are you-"

"You kissed me," he hissed dangerously. "I don't know about you, but I don't go around kissing random people that I don't like."

"You don't kiss anyone," she pointed out reasonably. "You don't date anyone."

"When did you grow a backbone?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What happened to the sweet little Lucy Weasley that I used to know?"

"She's not that little and immature anymore," Lucy responded, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Yes, too bad I like her better this way anyway," he told her, and then he was kissing her once again, his body finding hers and sending ice through her veins. As he pulled away slightly, he whispered to her lips, "You do realise that I'm not your typical fairytale prince?"

She almost laughed, shaking her head. "You still are my prince, though."

"I'm not a good prince," he protested, shaking his head of tangled brown hair.

"Oh, you are," she replied, and before he could say anything else she was kissing him again. Maybe it was wrong, but sometimes, it was right.

.

It felt right, when they were sitting by the pond's edge, their toes dancing just above the water's surface, their hands intertwined. Sighing, Lucy leaned her head onto Lorcan's shoulder, and he shifted uncomfortably. With a frown, she asked suddenly, "How come you never dated anyone before me?"

"There was never anyone good enough," he answered honestly.

She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "And I'm good enough?"

"You're perfect," he said, and the compliment took her by surprise, almost so much that she fell into the water.

Blushing subtly, she decided to change the subject. "This is the same pond that you saved me the second time, right?"

"It is, it is," he told her fondly, kicking the water and watching it ripple. "Do you still believe in Narnia, Lucy Weasley?"

She squeezed his hand, enjoying the touch of his icy skin, before telling him honestly, "Always."

"Always," he repeated, the ghosts of something dancing in his eyelids. "If you believe so strongly, then who am I to tell you that you're wrong?"

For one second, everything was perfect.

.

Perfection never lasted.

He asked her to come to his Quidditch match, Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and like a good girlfriend, she agreed. She sat in the back of the bleachers, cheering and screaming equally for both teams, since her cousins were on the Gryffindor team. Internally, though, she was cheering louder for the Slytherin team.

Then, unexpectedly, tragedy hit like a Beater hitting a Bludger.

One of the Gryffindor players accidentally crashed into Lorcan and he was falling.

Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Hands balled into fists, she tried to reach out, to run to him, but she was frozen in her seat. It was like a scene from a horror movie.

Then Lorcan hit the ground with a _crack_. Her vision blurred as people screamed, running towards him. Annoyed, she pushed her way through the crowd, because she was his _girlfriend_ and she had more right to him than any of them had- and maybe he'd influenced her quite a bit. He'd be proud.

Dropping to his side, she placed her hand on his heart, hoping silently to feel the soft thudding beneath her hand.

There was nothing.

Her vision blurred again and then there was nothing in front of her eyes as well.

.

Nothing was nice while it lasted.

Because then she pried her eyes open and _everything_ came flooding back and _no_, she couldn't do this. What was life without her mum and Lorcan? The whole she'd tried so hard to keep closed just ripped apart at the seams and everything came spilling out.

They tried, really, they did. Isabel and Alex were at her side once again, and honestly, she knew that they were the best friends ever. They offered her shoulders to cry on and ice cream, as if ice cream could solve everything.

But it wasn't enough somehow. The pain was almost overwhelming most of the time. All of her alone time was spent crying in her room, missing everyone she'd lost.

"Lucy, you'll find someone else," Isabel tried one day. "Lorcan isn't the only boy in the world, you know."

The problem was that to _her_, he had been. Sure, Alex was decent and all, but he had _Isabel_ and they were perfect together. As of now, Lucy had no one, and the void was emptier than ever.

There was only one solution, as she saw it. She had to get to Narnia. She suspected that, despite his disbelief, they'd allowed Lorcan in as well- if they didn't let in someone so prince-like, she didn't know what she would do.

And, in her empty, depthless mind, there was only one way to get to Narnia.

It wasn't going to be easy.

.

She left Isabel and Alex a note, detailing how they were the most amazing friends ever. Somehow inside, she felt guilty for what she was doing, but she was deteriorating from the inside and there was no way she could stay there any longer. Her heart and her soul were in Narnia- Lorcan and her mother, respectively.

So she crept out to the pond. She'd read in the books that the same passageway wouldn't work twice, but she didn't actually care.

Sighing, she stuck her toe in the water. She sat on the side, nearly feeling his presence beside her. The memories from what felt like _just the other _day consumed her before she just gave up and dove right in.

Slowly, her body sunk down into the water, consumed by the murky green substance. Her head disappeared within the water, followed by her body, and she felt herself being sucked down. The water started to morph before her now-open eyes, turning into rolling skies and fields.

But even as it faded a bit, there was no one to save her this time. After this, she was sure she'd be reunited with her prince, the boy of her dreams.

Her breath stopped and her feet landed on bare grass.

.

They found her body floating in the pond the next day.

Her soul, they all said, was away in Narnia.

.

**A/N: I don't even know. I CAN'T WRITE ANYTHING THAT'S NOT CREEPY THESE DAYS ERGH. **

**Anyway, this is for my lovely Siddy, who had a birthday lately. She's a bit obsessed with people drowning to get to Narnia so yeah, this is what came out of that- a LucyLorcan with **_**Slytherin**_** Lorcan (who is officially sexy and I LOVE HIM) and yeah, dead Lucy and stuff. I couldn't think of an ending so I killed them. Blech. The downsides of being a Slytherin. And Siddy, I love you, and I hope your birthday was awesome and that you enjoyed this! Also, thanks for showing me your lovely permit pic ;)**

**Please read and review. **_**DON'T FAVOURITE WITHOUT REVIEWING**_**. I'm a Slytherdor, so.**


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